


Help me on my way

by edourado



Series: Hell's Kitchen Chronicles [15]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hell's Kitchen Cronicles, Oneshot, Romance, Tumblr Prompt, edourado, karedevil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 01:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7078003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edourado/pseuds/edourado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt: Karedevil #13. “Don’t you dare to ever do that again!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Help me on my way

Karen honestly thought that once she got settled in New York, she would be able to lead a normal life. Honestly. Get a job, make friends, maybe meet a nice, normal guy, who knows, maybe even get married, move to a white picket fence house in a suburb, become a mom, get a dog, or a cat, complain about taxes and the price of gas. Normal, expected stuff. 

Instead, here she was, in her freshly painted living room, all the bullet holes finally patched up, the two million locks on her door secure, her window with laminated glass shutting the violent world outside, her former boss (ex-boyfriend?) sitting on her couch, his back to her, his legs still in the bottom half of the Daredevil suit (because of course her former boss/ex-boyfriend was Daredevil. Of course. Why not?) while she dug a bullet out of his back. 

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this. You should go to a hospital!” she said, trying her best not to shake.

“You’re doing fine”, he said, taking the bottle of vodka to his lips, taking a swig. When he lowered it again, she took it from his hand and took a big gulp herself, gasping when it burned her throat. 

“Ok. Ok, I’m gonna go in now. Ok?”

He nodded. 

Counting to three in her head, she dug this huge pair of pliers (why does she even have these? Oh, right, the other vigilante had left them there the last time he dug a bullet out of his own leg on that same floor. Christ.) on the open wound, and took a deep breath when he winced. 

“Shit, shit, shit, Matt, I’m not qualified for this, I don’t know what I’m doing here-”

“Karen, you’re fine. Just pull it out, it’s ok.”

“It’s not ok!” she said, her voice louder than she intended. “You’re bleeding on my couch and it’s brand new!”

The son of a bitch had the nerve to chuckle. 

“I’ll handle the dry cleaning.”

“You’re an asshole, did you know that?”

He took another gulp of vodka and she got a grip on the bullet. 

“I’m aware.”

“Oh my God, I got it. I got it, I got it. I’m gonna pull it out, ok?”

“Ok.”

She breathed hard, trying desperately not to lose her grip on the small bullet. 

When she pulled the pliers out, it’s teeth held the source of all this mess. Karen dropped it on a glass and pressed a thick square of gauze soaked in alcohol on the open wound. Matt inhaled sharply and supported his hands on his knees, bowing his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorry”, she said, pressing, her hands shaking.

Grunting through the pain, he straightened back up. 

“It’s fine. The stitches, now.”

She hesitated. 

“Matt. Are you sure you don’t wanna go to the hospital? You don’t have to tell them you were shot fighting a dirty cop with a grudge for Daredevil. Just- just say you were mugged, it’s-”

“They can identify me by the placing of the bullet, it’s too risky”, he said, turning his head to the side and she saw his profile. “I’m sorry I have to ask you this, but you’re the only one I trust.”

That would make her heart skip a beat if it wasn’t too busy freaking out.

“What about Foggy?”

“He would throw up on the wound”, he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. 

“What about that nurse that helps you?” she asked.

“She’s out of town.”

Of course. Obviously. Karen groaned. 

“I’ll walk you through it. Ok?”

She took a big breath and released it at once. 

“Fine.”

It was not easy. He tried not to, but Matt winced at every threat of the needle through his skin and Karen tried not to cry or shudder or gag. 

“Ok, you’re done. Just tie it up one last time and cut the thread”, he instructed. 

Shaking her head, she cut the line as close to his skin as she could. 

“It looks awful.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

She cleaned his shoulder of blood and patched a bandage over the wound, turning away from him, sitting on the couch, staring at the wall, bloodied hands sitting on her knees.

Groaning, he turned to sit both feet on the ground, sitting by her side. Raising his good arm, he offered her the bottle of vodka. She took it without hesitation and took as many gulps as her throat could handle without catching fire. 

When she lowered it again, she had tears in her eyes, and the liquor burned all the way to her stomach. 

“You did great”, he reassured her while she looked at the red stains her hand left on the bottle. 

“Don’t you ever do that again”, she said. “You hear me? Don’t you dare ever do that again!”

He sighed. 

“I’m sorry you had to-”

“I’m not talking about that, Matt! I’m talking about you getting shot!”

He was silent for a few moments.

“I can’t… I can’t promise you that, Karen.”

“You’re supposed to be careful. You’re supposed to be really good at this shit. The one thing that lets me sleep at night is the fact that you’re not crazy, you told me you know what you’re doing. Don’t you?” she asked, scolding, mad, angry, on her way to being drunk. 

He nodded.

“Then don’t get shot anymore! I can’t do this, Matt, I can’t! I can’t live everyday afraid you’re gonna die because some asshole got the best of you. You can’t do this to me!”

Oh, yeah, she was definitely crying, now. Angry tears or not, they were still running down and he turned to her, hand catching her face, wiping with his thumb. 

“I’ll be careful, I promise.”

“You promise!” she requested, fiercely, closing her fingers around his wrist, holding his hand on her face. 

“I promise”, he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, “I promise, my love, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

The pet name didn’t even register right while she tried to calm herself, breathing through her nose because he had kissed her, hard and intense, pressing his lips to hers with force, pecking once, twice, three times, opening his mouth, coaxing her to let him in and she did, as angry as she was with him. His tongue on her took her back to that first time he kissed her, when he was still just Matt and she felt good, it was concrete proof he was still here, that the Daredevil she had patched up was really him, he was still alive, the bullet meant to kill him sitting, useless, on a glass on the side table. 

When he leaned towards her, wincing right after, she remember that his shoulder must hurt like a son of a bitch, so she leaned back, gasping when she looked at his face. Her hands had smeared his own blood all over it. 

“God, come here.”

They stood under her shower and she washed away all the evidence of his violent night, minding his wound. Still, he ripped a few of her improvised stitches when he pressed her against the wall, a new stream of red, watery blood running down the drain while they moved together. 

Later, he sat on her bed and apologised again while she redid them, frowning at how ugly they looked on his shoulder. 

“I don’t wanna get good at this. Ok?” she asked, putting a new patch of clean, dry gauze over them. 

Matt swallowed, closed his eyes and pulled her to him by her hip, resting his head on her belly.

She stood these running her fingers through his hair, trying to get used to the notion that she would, yes, get quite good in stitching him up.


End file.
